


Close

by technorat



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Exile, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technorat/pseuds/technorat
Summary: Kylo Ren has time to consider his past actions against Hux.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 40
Kudos: 150





	1. Chapter 1

He is not without his regrets.

Standing there on the bridge of Pryde’s flagship, Hux looks lost, a stray strand of his hair having fallen free of his pomade’s hold.

Ren looks away.

It is no longer his place to approach Hux, to take the other man into his arms, and to comfort him. Hux has made this clear after Crait.

Kriffing Crait.

It seems like everything spiraled since then. The broken ribs, the choking, that limp that Hux thinks he is hiding.

And now the Finalizer is beyond Hux’s grasp. He is a general without a ship.

No wonder he looks morose.

“General,” Ren says.

He does not wince when Hux snaps to attention. It is like a switch goes off in his head. Hux goes to parade rest, lifting his chin, his gaze somewhere beyond Ren’s ear.

“What is it, Supreme Leader?” Hux says, his voice brittle. Hoarse.

Like he had been crying.

(Looking at his red-rimmed eyes, it is quite likely that Hux had shed a few tears.)

“The Steadfast will act as the First Order’s flagship for now,” Ren says. “See that you requisition proper quarters for yourself.”

Hux’s gaze wavers. He blinks rapidly.

Observation: Ren has kriffed up again.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, finally. “May I be dismissed?”

Ren frowns. “Yes.”

Hux turns around and flees. He has only seen Hux move this fast once before, when they were stranded on that planet together. Now that planet was little more than dust and light.

Ruined, like their relationship.

*

Once there had been a time when Ren was eager to please Hux. He had been freshly liberated from Luke’s school, freshly bathed in blood, and Hux had looked down on him, sneering.

He had to have him.

Once there had been a time when the bruises Ren left him were kinder. From the pressure of his hands around Hux’s hip, against Hux’s wrists.

And Hux had done much the same, leaving bites on every strip of skin he could find, hidden beneath so many layers of black cloth.

He kneeled before Hux then and relished in the sensation of it.

When he had risen, eventually, he had shoved Hux down onto the ground and left him there, sprawling.

*

There is something else. Hux despises Pryde. Yet Pryde still lives. Stares at him with such burning hatred. Hux’s thoughts are filled with anger, with an endless, wordless screaming.

Observation: Pryde knows of Hux’s hatred. Relishes in it.

Ren waits for the meeting with the Supreme Council to come to an end. He does not rise and, before Hux has a chance to leave, Ren says, “General Hux. I have a matter to discuss with you.”

Hux blinks and calms his racing heart. “Very well, Supreme Leader.”

Pryde looks at them curiously, a single brow raised. But then he is gone, beyond the durasteel door.

Ren remains silent for a beat after, waiting for those officers of the First Order to continue in their paths. He can relish this, this quiet time with Hux, and pretend that things have remained the same.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux says, after a while. He scrunches his nose in a manner Ren still finds adorable.

Observation: Hux is both afraid and impatient.

“Hux,” Ren says and then he realizes his mistake.

What could he possibly say to the other man? That he is sorry?

He could still remember the sensation of choking him, how Hux had fallen to his knees, hair askew. There were tears in his eyes.

(Yes, Hux had tried to kill him. This is not unusual for Hux. But why does he feel so _bad_ about retaliation?)

There is a small furrow between Hux’s brows. Ren wishes he could reach across the table and smooth it out.

“Is there a reason that you have asked me to stay behind?” Hux asks quietly.

Ren looks at him. He cannot draw his eyes away from Hux. Not when he looks so defeated.

“The repairs on the Finalizer,” Ren finds himself saying. “They’re underway.”

Hux nods. Lets out a toneless hum. “Is that all, Supreme Leader?” he asks. One hand rests atop the table, a sliver of his wrist visible. How hungry he is for that white patch of skin.

Ren reaches across the table and places a hand over Hux’s own. He can feel the warmth even through the layers of leather between.

Hux goes still, his eyes wide as moons.

“I’m sorry,” Ren says, far too late.

Hux shakes his head and lets out a brittle laughs. “What for?” he says, despairing. He pulls away from Ren’s hold and Ren is too surprised to do anything about it. “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“I don’t have you,” Ren says.

Hux sneers and remembers when—

_Demoted, stripped rank in all but title—_

_Tossed aside on the shuttle—_

_Choked in the throne room—_

_Lied to, betrayed, forgotten once again—_

_Ren’s hand reaching out the the scavenger girl, Ren’s eyes so warm, wet. He had wanted her, he had offered the Galaxy to her. Let her live when she rejected him—_

_Ren’s moods. Hot and cold. Hux never knew what to expect: sometimes passion, sometimes a cool, disinterested gaze—_

_Ren, still coated in blood and gore from the Jedi school. Ren, smiling at Hux, teasing him. The painful way Hux’s heart lurched in his chest—_

_Hux, a junior cadet, licking liquor and glass from a durasteel floor. Burning. His father thrashed him, another man laughed—_

There were many men in the past, friends of Brendol, who were allowed to beat and degrade Hux as a child.

Pryde was one of them.

Hux, still a child. Bloodied, bruised.

Defeated.

Ren swallows. He cannot look away from Hux’s trembling form.

“I didn’t know,” Ren says. His words ring hollow.

“When do you ever know?” Hux says. “When do you ever realize before it’s too late?”

“Pryde,” Ren says. “I’ll get rid of him—”

“And what?” Hux says. He folds his arms over his chest. He is breathing rapidly, his heartbeat racing. “What will happen when you kill your Allegiant General? How will you explain that away? There’s no Jedi here for you to pin the murder on, Ren.”

Ren recoils. “How—”

Hux rises to his feet, his chair clattering behind him. “Never forget, Ren,” he says, pale eyes burning. “I know everything.”

And then he leaves, with a flutter of his greatcoat’s sleeves.

Ren is too helpless to stop him. He was too late, much too late.

All he can ever do is keep Hux close.

*

*

*


	2. Chapter 2

He finds himself in an unnamed cantina on an unnamed planet. Just as well, for he himself is good as nameless.

Ren trades some of the marks he had collected for food, drink, and somewhere warm to rest for a cycle or two. He nurses his drink in a dark corner. It’s an offensively garish orange.

A Fuzzy Tauntaun, the bartender had called it.

It was alcoholic, sweet, and covered by his kills. So, it didn’t really matter. Plus, it goes well with the rehydrated bread and roast chicken.

Another person finds a seat in Ren’s corner.

“Hey,” Ren says, before he realizes just who it is.

The other man wears an oversized black cloak. A sliver of ginger hair falls down, past the shade of his hood.

Whatever else Ren would say dies in his throat.

Armitage Hux sits before him, very much still alive.

“Hey yourself,” Hux says primly. He rests his bare hands on the table. They are chapped, dry, his nails down to the quick. “Fancy treating me some alcohol?”

Ren swallows and flags down the barkeep. She brings him another Fuzzy Tauntaun and says, “On the house.”

Hux takes the drink and all but drowns himself in it. He’s thin—thinner than he ever was. This is alarming.

Ren pushes forth the remainder of his meal.

Hux sneers. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I think you do,” Ren says, very quietly.

Hux’s face falls. He digs into the meal, taking small, precise bites until there is not even a crumb left. He wipes his face, then his hands, and says, “So, how are you still alive?”

*

Hux comes with him up the stairs to the room that night. He has a cane now, one made of dark, polished wood. He showers first and changes into clean casual clothes, things Ren has never seen him wear.

Ren washes up after and sinks into the bed, right beside Hux’s curled form.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Hux tells him, wriggling closer to his warmth.

“Sure,” Ren says, inhaling that same sea salt scent of Hux, letting himself pretend that things have not changed.

*

Hux follows him to his shuttle when Ren’s free days at the cantina are up.

He is much like a stray cat, half-tamed by a meal and a warm place to sleep.

Hux watches as he readies the ship for takeoff. His gaze is heavy. Inquisitive.

“Where are we going?” Hux asks, finally.

_We._

Ren swallows back a smile.

“Is there somewhere you’d like to go?” he asks.

*

Ren takes them to Arkanis, where it is always, always raining. There, they find a small, abandoned cottage. Between the two of them, they fix it up in no time.

There is one bed. They share it.

Neither man brings it up.

*

Hux initiates the casual touching. A hand on Ren’s shoulder, to steady himself. His feet placed in Ren’s lap as he complained of aches and pains. Once Hux braided Ren’s hair away from his face, like Ren had done when he still wore a mask.

Ren does not allow himself to hope that all is forgiven.

But when Hux curls up in his arms that night, he can pretend. Just for a little while longer.

*

“How did you survive?” Hux asks him at breakfast, apparently not satisfied with the answer Ren gave earlier, on that cantina. They eat a portion of protein mush each and wash it down with bitter tea.

“Skywalker left me on Exegol. Thought I was dead,” Ren says. “I wasn’t.”

“And you found a ship?”

“Mm. Was hard. Had to stay there a while to scavenge up enough parts to get her going,” Ren says. His eyes flicker over Hux’s form. “How about you?”

Hux snorts. He abandons the protein mush and brings a hand to his chest. “I was wearing armor beneath my uniform,” he admits. “Still hurt.”

Ren frowns. It did not explain how Hux got off of the Steadfast. He asks no more questions, losing himself in his cup of tepid tea.

*

They garden together. Ren does not know the names of any of these plants, but Hux seems to know what he’s doing. And, apparently, he is more than willing to poke and prod Ren into doing what is needed.

They have a coop and a gaggle of chicken. Ren had never seen such strange creatures alive before, with their white feathers and blue skin. It is Ren’s responsibility to gather the eggs they produce daily.

They eat what their garden supplies for dinner, huddling close before a crackling fireplace. Sometimes they talk, never of serious things. Holodramas, their old wounds, how the garden is growing. Those sorts of things.

*

“I’m sorry,” Ren tells Hux, one rainy evening. He knows that his words will never be enough, but he must say them. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”

Hux smiles, soft, sweet, and so very sad. “I know,” he says. He does not draw away from Ren. “I ended up forgiving you a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were dead and defeated,” Hux says. “It wasn’t a victory that lasted.”

It had lasted close to ten years now. Ten years since the Order had fallen, since both men had been presumed dead.

“Do you ever miss—”

“Those early years?” Now Hux’s smile turns bitter. Those years they had squabbled and had make-up sex on every surface of the Finalizer. Those days where they hid their activities from Snoke and snarked about the man behind his back. “Every kriffing day.”

“Maybe we can still have it,” Ren says, quietly.

Outside, it is raining. Thunder rumbles lowly.

“Maybe,” Hux says slowly, savoring the sound of the word.

Ren cards his fingers through Hux’s overgrown hair. He is allowed to do this, surprisingly.

Hux lets out a little sigh.

This, what they have scavenged from the ruins of the Order, is good.

*

There is silver at Hux’s temples, which is unfair. Ren is younger than him by five whole years and already his roots are all grey.

“You did take over the Galaxy,” Hux says unkindly. “Perhaps it is due to that sort of stress.”

“It was a brief reign,” Ren defends.

“A terrible one too.”

On the holonews Rey Skywalker is smiling, followed by a handful of Force-users. Two look distinctly like her and the former Stormtrooper.

Hux snorts and shuts the holonews off.

“Rubbish,” he says.

Ren laughs.

*

He still has those regrets, from long ago. But time goes on.

Neither of them has rank anymore. Neither of them want to fight. They are still alive, still there, on rainy Arkanis, where nothing seems to matter. They are close to one another, as close as they have ever been.

Hux will not hear his apologies, not anymore, but Ren can make up for his many mistakes.

He can keep Hux close, keep him safe, warm, and fed.

He can sometimes bring a smile to his face.

And Hux, who knows everything, allows all of this.

It is enough. This he is sure.

*

*

*


End file.
